Distance
by Elina
Summary: They count tomorrows - A CJ/Toby poem


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Author: Elina

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Title: Distance 

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Category: Romance/Poetry/ CJ and Toby

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Rating: G

Written: 12.10.2002

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Summary: CJ and Toby count tomorrows.

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Author's note: I've always liked poems (well, the certain type of poems) because they're foggy and surreal and rhythmic, the words are a lot more magical and dreamy than in a normal story. I like that in a text, not always but sometimes it's ecstatic. I wrote this one when I was writing another story and I just couldn't come up with anything (plus I also got a little bored with dialogues), and it was late and I suddenly remembered this one short poem I'd written a couple of years ago for who-knows-what. So, I dug it out of my pile of papers in the dark, dangerous depths of my drawers and wrote a story inspired by it and this one Anna Ahmatova's poem 'At night' (you should read her poems. Even though they're sometimes really out there, some of them are very good). I know this isn't exactly a typical poem, it's more like _poemish_, but that OK, and I'm not going to yarn about it anymore. 

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Dedication: To Yesterday.

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Distance

She hears the steps before the knock on the door. Once again, he has come. The shadows start lurking behind the windows, they reach in, they never leave a mark. The door opens and closes, trapping the world behind it when they

hide.

Beyond the shadows there's the world where everyone can see them, no protection, too much reasons, too much explanations. They're not ready to come clear. During the day there's only brief glances that say nothing at all and said words that don't mean anything. But they both can hear the distance screaming, screaming when they're apart, away from the secure cloak of the darkness. 

The day offers no mercy.

They have done this many times before, hid behind the curtains and in the shadows where _no one_ can see them

or hear them.

Silent words they've whispered into each others ears, promises they've given but never kept, 'tomorrow' they say, tomorrow they'll tell the world, expose their shadows. But before that they'll hide in them, make love in secrecy and flee before the dawn comes.

It's the way it must be.

Once again he reaches his hand to touch hers and once again she grabs it, the distance between them is no longer _screaming_ as their lips meet. Love is a mystery, they say, it can't be hurried by the meaninglessness of the daylight. Once again this man and this woman forget the outside, brush it aside like some old pile of dust, to touch and love.

But the moment is brief, time is only sudden, it is gone before they even realize. The shadows that had sucked them in, rocked them in their safety, are now only shadows, not shelters. Soon they'll vanish in the break of the dawn. Once again, 'tomorrow' they promise, even though they both know tomorrow will never come.

Once again the touch shatters, the bodies break apart. He turns away, he turns his back to leave and, between another useless promise and the emptiness in her heart, he is gone.

The moment is brief, time is only sudden, she tells herself, and the count of tomorrows is endless. At that moment, when the moon wanders across the sky aimlessly, shrieking in its beauty, the sound of silence is deafening and the ripple of the waves covers all the other voices. Only one stands still, silent, doesn't make a sound, only in the inside

screams.

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"At night" by Anna Ahmatova (roughly translated)

In the sky the moon barely alive

in the middle of the stream of the brittle clouds.

A sullen guard by the palace

angrily stares at the steeple clock.

An unfaithful wife is going home, 

her face is hard, reticent,

and the faithful is burnt by longing 

that the tight embrace of the dream can't extinguish.

And what about them? A week ago I sighed,

threw my farewells to the world. 

But in my room the air was musty

and I left to the park 

to look at the stars,

to touch the Lyre.

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The original poem (roughly translated)

The moon wandered over the bridges

aimlessly

in its beauty it shrieked

the ripple of the waves was deafening

the rustle of the leaves and 

the wailing of the wind in the graveyards

were heard louder tonight than anything else

but one stood silent, didn't make 

a sound, only in the inside

screamed 

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End file.
